*The Scavenger's Sermon: Getachew Reda Preaches Peace While Holding Abiy's Bread*

Getachew Reda — once breastfed by the Tigrayan struggle, once trusted by mothers who never thought their son would sell their bones — now sits comfortably in Abiy Ahmed's genocidi ire camp, his mouth full of words like "peace," "stability," and "the people of Tigray." He types his Facebook sermons from a safe chair, in a safe city, under a safe roof provided by the very man who dropped drones on schools and starved two million into displacement.

And he has the audacity — the scavenger's audacity — to lecture anyone about the Pretoria Agreement?

Let us read between the lies. Let us tear the mask off his carefully crafted performance. Because what Getachew Reda posted on April 19, 2026, is not a political analysis. It is a confession. A confession of who he truly is: a ተንኮሎጂስት — a creature of conspiracy — who has been breaded like bread by Abiy Ahmed, kneaded, baked, and served warm to the very people he pretends to care about.

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*"The decision by the Central Committee of what little is left of the TPLF..."*

Look at his opening sneer. "What little is left." He mocks the TPLF's size while sitting in the camp of the man who tried to erase it. He diminishes the party that raised him, fed him, gave him a platform, and trusted him with leadership. And now, because he has chosen a different master, he speaks of it as a corpse.

But here is the truth, Getachew: The TPLF may be wounded. It may be fragmented. But it is not yours to mock. You abandoned it. You did not inherit its legacy — you sold it. And the mothers and fathers of Tigray, the ones who bless strangers on the streets of Mekelle, they have not forgotten. They remember that you were once a son of the struggle. And now you are a mouthpiece for the genocidaire.

Actions speak louder than words. Your action is sitting in Abiy's camp. Your word is this Facebook post. The two do not match.

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*"...officially rejecting the federal government's extension of General Tadesse Werede’s tenure..."*

Let us stop here. "General Tadesse Werede." You call him General, Getachew. You give him a title. But do you know what the people of Tigray call him? Bread. Bread that was kneaded by Abiy's hands, baked in Abiy's oven, and served to a starving region as if it were a feast.

All that glitters is not gold. Tadesse's extension glitters on your Facebook page, but it is fool's gold. And you, Getachew, are the fool polishing it.

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*"...effectively voids the Pretoria Agreement."*

You speak of voiding the Pretoria Agreement as if it were a sacred text. But who voided it first, Getachew? Was it the TPLF? Or was it Abiy Ahmed, when he armed Tigrayan proxy groups in Afar to fight Tigrayans? Was it Abiy Ahmed, when he staged attacks on civilians in more than two areas of Tigray just months ago? Was it Abiy Ahmed, when he cut all federal budgets, blocked fuel and cash, and left two million to rot in IDP camps while his TV channels painted Tigray as heaven?

The Pretoria Agreement died a long time ago, Getachew. You just didn't notice because you were too busy eating Abiy's bread.

A friend in need is a friend indeed. You were never a friend to Tigray. You were a passenger on its momentum, and when the train derailed, you jumped to the other side.

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*"...a well-established pattern in which the TPLF... pursues high-risk, destabilizing gambits whose consequences are borne disproportionately by the civilian population."*

This is the most disgusting part of your post, Getachew. You speak of "the civilian population" as if you have ever lost sleep over them. You speak of "consequences borne disproportionately" as if you have ever carried a single one.

Where were you when the drones fell? In a safe house, probably. Where were you when the blockade starved children? In a comfortable chair, writing statements. Where were you when the mothers of Mekelle wrapped themselves in white shamma because they had nothing else to wear? You were in Abiy's camp, Getachew. You were being breaded like bread.

You reap what you sow. You have sown betrayal. And you will reap the contempt of every Tigrayan who still has a memory.

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*"The people of Tigray... cannot afford another descent into violence."*

Oh, now you care about violence? Now you care about what the people of Tigray can afford? You, who sat silently while Abiy's genocidal machine ground our people into dust? You, who only found your voice when it was time to criticize the TPLF and defend Abiy's puppet president?

Let me tell you what the people of Tigray cannot afford, Getachew. They cannot afford you. They cannot afford your Facebook lectures. They cannot afford your hypocrisy. They cannot afford a man who was breastfed by the struggle and now uses that same breast to suckle at Abiy's teat.

Still waters run deep. The people of Tigray are silent, Getachew. But that silence is not agreement. It is not fear. It is the deep water that drowns traitors.

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*"The international community must take urgent note..."*

Ah, yes. The international community. The same international community that watched the genocide and did nothing. The same international community that called the blockade a "humanitarian access issue" instead of a war crime. You want them to take urgent note now? Now that the TPLF has rejected your master's puppet president?

You are not calling for justice, Getachew. You are calling for backup. You are standing in Abiy's camp, waving at the world, and shouting "Look! The TPLF is being difficult!" while behind you, the real Tigray burns.

The pen is mightier than the sword. But your pen is not mighty. It is a wet noodle, scribbling lies for a genocidaire.

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*"Act before the window for effective action closes!"*

The window closed a long time ago, Getachew. It closed when Abiy's drones first flew over Mekelle. It closed when the blockade first starved a child. It closed when you first sat in Abiy's camp and decided that your own survival was worth more than your people's dignity.

You are not asking the international community to act. You are asking them to save you from the consequences of your own betrayal. Because you know, deep down, that the people of Tigray have long memories. They remember who fought and who fled. They remember who stood and who sat. They remember who blessed strangers and who blessed the genocidaire.

Time and tide wait for none. Your time is coming, Getachew. The tide is turning. And when it does, all the Facebook posts in the world will not save you.

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*A Letter to Getachew Reda — From the Seven Zones of Tigray*

Getachew,

You were once a son of our soil. Your mother blessed you, I am sure. She said "ብደቅኻ ተሓጎስ" — may you be made happy by your children. Did you ever stop to think what that blessing meant? It meant that one day, you would have children, and they would make you happy. It did not mean that you should sell your people's future for a seat in Abiy's camp.

You speak of the Pretoria Agreement as if you ever believed in it. You did not. You believed in Getachew Reda. You believed in survival. You believed in whatever kept you breathing, even if that meant breathing the same air as the man who murdered your neighbors.

The mothers of Mekelle — the ones in white shamma, the ones who bless strangers with the happiness of children they no longer have — they see you, Getachew. They see you sitting in Abiy's camp, typing your careful words, pretending to care about "the civilian population." And they know the truth.

The truth is that you are not a leader. You are a scavenger. You picked at the bones of Tigray while the hyenas feasted, and then you called yourself a statesman.

Pride comes before a fall. Your pride is writing Facebook posts. Your fall is coming. And when it comes, there will be no das tsal raised for you. There will be no shelter of grief. There will only be silence — the silence of a people who have moved on from your betrayal.

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*To the People of Tigray — Reading This*

Do not be fooled by Getachew Reda's words. He writes beautifully. He constructs sentences that sound reasonable. He calls for peace, for stability, for international attention. But behind every word is a man who sits in the camp of the genocidaire.

Tadesse Werede was breaded like bread by Abiy Ahmed. And now Getachew Reda is defending that bread. He is not defending Tigray. He is defending his own position, his own relevance, his own survival.

The TPLF — whatever remains of it — has rejected Tadesse's illegal extension. That is not a violation of the Pretoria Agreement. That is a defense of the agreement's original terms. Tadesse was appointed for six months. The six months ended. The agreement did not say "until Abiy changes his mind." It did not say "until Getachew Reda writes a Facebook post." It said six months. And six months have passed.

Honesty is the best policy. But there is no honesty in Getachew's post. There is only performance.

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*The Final Word*

Getachew Reda, you have chosen your side. You stand with Abiy Ahmed, the man who turned Tigray into a graveyard. You stand with Tadesse Werede, the man who was breaded like bread and wants to sits illegally in the president's office. You stand with the scavengers, the betrayers, the ተንኮሎጂስቶች who have sold their souls for a chair at the butcher's table.

But know this: The seven zones of Tigray are still standing. The mothers are still blessing strangers. The fighters are still crying in silence. The generals who never betrayed are still in the mountains, watching, waiting, remembering.

Where there is a will, there is a way. And the will of Tigray is not broken. The way forward does not include you, Getachew. The way forward does not include Tadesse. The way forward does not include any man who has eaten Abiy's bread and called it peace.

You reap what you sow. You have sown betrayal. You will reap the silence of a people who no longer call your name.

And when that silence falls, Getachew, listen carefully. Because in that silence, you will hear the only thing that matters:

The sound of Tigray walking away from you.

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*May 20, 2026*

From the seven zones of Tigray — to Getachew Reda, sitting in Abiy's camp

We see you. We remember. We will not forget.

*ግዜ ፈራዲ.*

Time is the judge.

*ኩሉ ንምርኣይ ምቅናይ.*

Being alive proves everything.

*We are alive. We have seen. We judge you.*